Striking Resemblance
by Lady Perditus
Summary: Sam really doesn't appreciate Dean's humor sometimes. "What do you mean it looks like me?" Oneshot!


**Striking Resemblance**

**Summary: Sam really doesn't appreciate Dean's humor sometimes. "What do you mean it looks like me?"**

**Author's Note: I needed some fluff. *shameless fluff* Take place mid-season 6, after 6x12 'Like a Virgin'. Oh, one more thing, it's only rated T for some language, but it's nothing worse than the show.**

**Disclaimer: Sam and Dean Winchester are not mine. **

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The first thing to spring into Sam's mind about this whole situation is that _Dean needs to stop thinking he's funny when he's not._ Because this? This wasn't funny—or cool, but Bobby's snort seems to tell another tale and his laughter seems to _encourage _the older Winchester. Dean has a cocky smirk plastered on his face and the only thing Sam can do is shoot him what is deemed his 'bitch face' and pout like a petulant child.

"This is stupid." He declared, crossing his arms in the passenger seat of the Impala and making up his mind that neither Dean nor Bobby could make him get out of the car and…do whatever it is they expected him to do at a state fair. A _stupid _state fair.

"C'mon, don't be a killjoy." Dean smirks, climbing out of the car and ducking down to peer at Sam through the window. "Even Bobby agreed to it, and look at how old he's getting."

Bobby grumbled something about Dean being an idjit and how _he should show him just how getting old doesn't mean he can't kick a snarky kid's ass._ However, true to his word he also exited the car, though significantly less excited than Dean.

"Bobby, you can't be serious." Sam pleaded, desperate to weasel his way out of this _somehow_. He didn't need to have fun; he needed to get back to work. According to his brother he was in the cage with Michael and Lucifer for a year, meaning he had quite a bit to catch up on.

Unfortunately his surrogate father only shrugged, giving a half smile that said he was trying to amuse Dean more than do this of his own free will. "Could be fun."

Sam groaned, knowing when he was beat and reluctantly followed the other two men but still trying to silently concoct a successful escape plan. Seeing where Dean was going to lead them, he immediately voiced a protest. "Dean, no."

His brother's response was instantaneous. A wide grin threated to split his face and he nodded, comically wiggling his eyebrows. "You know you want to Sammy."

A cough came from behind the bickering brothers and both of them turned their attention to Bobby. "You boys have fun." He told them and damn him if Sam thought he heard him trying to conceal a laugh as he hastily retreated, heading towards the food stalls and abandoning Sam to Dean's childish antics.

True to his expectations his older brother did in fact drag him from one ridiculous game to another but it wasn't quite as bad as Sam would have expected. It was uplifting, really, to see his brother smile so much and laughter so genuinely recently. If he would have to put up with a few more hours of games to see Dean so happy, it was a sacrifice worth making.

Of course, that was before Sam got a face full of cheap, brown, fake fur. Growling, he shoved it out of his face but Dean relentlessly suspended it until the younger man took it. "What is it?" He rolled his eyes, turning the large stuffed animal around so he could see its front. Oh god.

It was a giant stuffed moose, with seemingly disproportionate antlers that stuck out of its head. A large, pink tongue was flapping out of what was supposed to be the animal's mouth but was actually just a black line.

All in all, it was _hideous,_ and Sam's face reflected just that.

Dean burst into laughter, nearly wheezing due to the way his brother was holding the moose at arm's length as though it was going to bite him. "Dude…your face…" he managed to choke out between bouts of giggles (and yes, they were _giggles_ no matter how much he would deny it).

He was able to compose himself rather quickly but managed to stand completely still after a second of squinting his eyes and switching his intense gaze from the moose to Sam and back to the moose again.

"What?" Sam demanded, feeling his irritation boil like a physical entity beneath his skin. Silently he counted to ten and (almost) prayed for the patience to deal with his older-but-not-really brother.

"It looks like you." Dean deadpanned before turning on his heel and walking off to find another game, smirking as soon as he knew Sam wouldn't be able to see his face. It was oddly pleasing to know exactly how to push Sam's buttons.

Because _dammit _Sam hated not knowing something and he knew Dean had done that on purpose to cause Sam to panic slightly at not having the answer.

"Hey!" In two large steps he caught up with Dean and gripped his bicep. "What do you mean it looks like me?"

"I don't know Sam," Dean saw the way his brother's hazel eyes widened at the serious tone in his voice. "I think we can finally explain how you're a health freak. And look at the familial resemblance! I mean…it's pretty obvious you can't be related to this." He gestured to himself and grinned as Sam's expression immediately turned from curious to offended. "Moose eat grass, right?"

"You're a freaking jerk!" Sam accused, trying to ignore the loud cackles that were now ringing in his ears.

Dean didn't even get a warning before the large brown mass was flying at unnaturally high velocities towards his face.


End file.
